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“Is it?” said Johnny.,

'I was interrupted in my confession by a sound of deep sobs, and rising my eyes, Oh God, what were my sensations, when in the features of the holy father I discovered Angelo! His image faded like a vision from my sight, and I sunk at his feet. On recovering I found myself on my matrass, attended by a sister, who I discovered by her conversation had no suspicion of the occasion of my disorder. Indisposition confined me to my bed for several days; when I recovered, I saw Angelo no more, and could almost have doubted my senses, and believed that an illusion had crossed my sight, till one day I found in my cell a written paper. I distinguished at the first glance the handwriting of Angelo, that well-known hand which had so often awakened me to other emotions. I trembled at the sight; my beating heart acknowledged the beloved characters; a cold tremor shook my frame, and half breathless I seized the paper. But recollecting myself, I paused—I hesitated: duty at length yielded to the strong temptation, and I read the lines! Oh! those lines prompted by despair, and bathed in my tears! every word they offered gave a new pang to my heart, and swelled its anguish almost beyond endurance. I learned that Angelo, severely wounded in a foreign engagement, had been left for dead upon the field; that his life was saved by the humanity of a common soldier of the enemy, who perceiving signs of existence, conveyed him to a house. Assistance was soon procured, but his wounds exhibited the most alarming symptoms. During several months he languished between life and death, till at length his youth and constitution surmounted the conflict, and he returned to Naples. Here he saw my brother, whose distress and astonishment at beholding him occasioned a relation of past circumstances, and of the vows I had taken in consequence of the report of his death. It is unnecessary to mention the immediate effect of this narration; the final one exhibited a very singular proof of his attachment and despair;—he devoted himself to a monastic life, and chose this abbey for the place of his residence, because it contained the object most dear to his affections. His letter informed me that he had purposely avoided discovering himself, endeavouring to be contented with the opportunities which occurred of silently observing me, till chance had occasioned the foregoing interview.—But that since its effects had been so mutually painful, he would relieve me from the apprehension of a similar distress, by assuring me, that I should see him no more. He was faithful to his promise; from that day I have never seen him, and am even ignorant whether he yet inhabits this asylum; the efforts of religious fortitude, and the just fear of exciting curiosity, having withheld me from enquiry. But the moment of our last interview has been equally fatal to my peace and to my health, and I trust I shall, ere very long, be released from the agonizing ineffectual struggles occasioned by the consciousness of sacred vows imperfectly performed, and by earthly affections not wholly subdued.',

Luckily for him, the impact which had thrown him out, served to propel him a little to one side of the spot where the wrecked boat plunged ahead of him, and to land him in a pool of deep water. If this had not happened and he had crashed into the boat’s wreckage, broken bones would have been his portion. As it was, he missed this fate by only a hair’s breadth.,

Without the boat, they would have no provisions. The nature of the country didn’t promise much in the way of forage, and even if they succeeded in climbing the canyon walls, they would probably starve before they reached civilization. It was a terrifying prospect and each boy realized it fully. But neither would show to the other the fear that gripped him. Stumbling and weak they made their way over the rocks until they could see around the bend.

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“I figger our bird will be pretty near safe in this li’l’ cage,” said Dave Harper. “’Member when we holed up that hoss thief here?”,

My, oh, my! Johnny Blossom hopped over every gutter he came to on his way home. First over the gutter and then back again and over again just because everything was so unspeakably joyful, because it was Christmas Eve, because Uncle Isaac was going to send some presents. They were sure to be wonderful presents, those Uncle Isaac sent!,

“That’s the only thing I’ll really be sorry for—and leaving you, old man. But after all, it was you who was responsible for the trip. I just went because you dared me into it. No, Bob, if Link will go North with me, I’ll have to pass up the Labyrinth.”,

JOHNNY BLOSSOM was walking home from school. He carried his head high; his turned-up, freckled nose was held proudly in the air; his cap hung on the back of his head. Both hands were in his pockets, and his loud whistling waked the echoes as he strode through Jensen Alley. Perfectly splendid monthly report! Of course he knew it, word for word, and he said it over to himself again, as he had many times.